Sitting atop his dire wolf looking down into the waste that was Desolace, the orc thought about the road ahead. South through the hot sands of Desolace and into the wilds of Ferelas, all before nightfall, was no easy task.
“The road is long my love, we must not tarry,...

The sun was setting over the western mountains, a cool breeze running through the pass along the worn path and into the thornbrush of the Southern Barrens. Silence dominated the dusk and the flickering torches of the Quillboar sentries shone out over the grasslands casting long,...